Prom Night
by Omega3141
Summary: Percy and Annabeth's daughter, ready for her first prom. Tell me what you think.


Prom Night

(Percy's POV)

As I watched my daughter come down the stairs, I truly appreciated how beautiful she was. No wonder all the boys in school had asked her to prom. With her long, black hair, her storm grey eyes, and her glowing face, it was no doubt she was our daughter. Annabeth was standing next to me, and I had my arm around her. We watched as she walked down the steps, and we realized how perfect she was. Her dress was an ocean-green, with grey pearls across it. It flowed out, but not too much, and it was professional, but not so much that it looked like a suit. We weren't going to 'show off' our daughter, and Annabeth wanted a grey dress, and I wanted a green dress, but eventually, our daughter decided on my idea, leaving Annabeth scowling, while actually hiding a smile beneath it. She reached the bottom, and for a second she stumbled; those new high heels were something she wasn't used to. She flailed her arms, and I rushed forward to help, but she waved me off. "Dad, l can do things by myself." She said, regaining her balance and placing her hands on her hips. She glared at me for a second with those grey eyes, and I backed away before I remembered that she wasn't Annabeth, and I didn't have to obey her. But my daughter smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Sorry, dad. Just needed some space." I nodded, understanding. "So, how do you feel? Your first prom!" Annabeth said, looking at her daughter calculatingly. She smiled, ignoring her mother's gaze. I never understood how she did that. "I'm excited, Mom. How many times have you asked me today?" Annabeth hugged her apologetically. "Sorry, sweetie. I'm just so proud." "Me, too." I said, giving her a hug. She rolled her, eyes, like her friends were in this room, laughing as we hugged her. I looked at her, saying, "Now, what are the rules?" She groaned outwardly, but she repeated what I'd taught her. "Have a fun time, but not too much fun. If he tries to get to second base, deck him, make sure you leave a bruise." She blushed at that part, and I had a feeling that they'd already kissed. I'd have to pay a visit to that 'Andrew'. Even the name sounded evil. (Hey, I'm an overprotective demigod dad, cut me some slack) "What else?" I asked her. She sighed. "Have your weapon on you at all times, make sure you have your armor on underneath you dress, and don't use the cell phone unless it's an emergency." I looked at her, tapping my foot on the ground. She crossed her arms. "And?" She glared at me, but she recited the last few rules. "No alcoholic beverages ("As if you had to worry about that!" she protested.), Have nectar and/or ambrosia with you at all times. Lastly, be back by 10:30." I nodded, smiling. At least she had remembered. "How come I get all the rules? You aren't making Alex do all this!" Annabeth smiled. "That's because Alexander (Yay! I named the first kid! What do you think?) Is four years older than you, has a job, a wife, and is responsible." Our sweetie muttered something under her breath about 'not fair' but she hugged us before she left anyway, telling us, "I love you." She walked out the door, where Andrew handed her a corsage, and escorted her to the horse-drawn carriage. (I'd insisted on a chariot, but Annabeth told me that would freak the kid out, so I 'persuaded' him to rent this for my daughter.) He glanced nervously at Annabeth and I, and I glared at him, wanting to throttle him. But Annabeth stepped on my foot, so I smiled-grimaced at him, instead. Besides, the kid reminded me of, well, me. His attitude (from the few times I met him) was good, he looked okay, but not overly handsome. And he was nice to my daughter. Although I'd have to see about the whole kissing thing. Of course, I really didn't have anything on them. I mean, I kissed Annabeth when I was sixteen, so, I couldn't complain. But nothing else until they're married. That's staying that way. We watched her ride away, and Annabeth muttered, "Gods, I feel old." I didn't respond. Answering is like walking in a minefield. She kept on talking. "Three kids, one grown up, one at prom, one upstairs in bed? I'm going to be a grandmother soon, for Zeus' sake." I took her by the hand, and walked her into the living room. I pushed the furniture out of the way, put on some music, and danced. She laid her head on my shoulder, keeping me close. "Thanks, Seaweed Brain." I smiled, kissed her forehead, and replied, "Anytime, Wise Girl." We danced like that for a while, oblivious that out eight year-old son was watching us from the stairs. My thoughts wondered to our daughter, with her lovely name. Annabeth and I agreed on it together, because we could think of no better name. Our Zoë Jackson, strong and courageous as she was, was hopefully having a blast at her first prom.


End file.
